Klaus was looking down at the piece of paper with the symbol, trying to connect the dots when Camille emerged from the kitchen with two steaming hot cups of coffee. "Sugar?" she asked, jolting him back to the present.

"How did you get this?" He demanded.

Her eyes dropped to the book he was holding and he saw pain flash through her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice. How did you come across this symbol?" He asked again, more gently.

She hesitated for a moment before seating down beside him as he scooted over. Placing the coffee on the table, she reached for the book, cradled it in her hands, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were bright with unshed tears.

"On the person who murdered my mother," she said with an unwavering voice.

Silence greeted her sentence and it was a while before Klaus registered the seriousness of her announcement.

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said sincerely. Boy, was he getting soft, he thought, as an image of another blonde surfaced in his mind, contemptuously saying "You don't connect with people, because you don't even try to understand them".

Camille shrugged and he saw the barrier of courage and strength slip back up.

"Care to share? I'm a good listener," he said.

Her eyes took on a faraway look as she recollected her story.

"Bye, guys! See you tomorrow in class," she said, hopping off the truck and slamming the door shut. It was 3am in the morning and her new friends from college had just dropped her off at her apartment building after their midnight movie date. Her mum had shelled out every last cent of her savings for them to make the move into a dingy and musty two-bedroom flat to be closer to her new school despite her protests. And Camille was extremely grateful for the sacrifices she had made, bringing her up single-handedly. Between them, and some strategic trips to garage sales and the local home improvement shop, the gloomy and stale space finally became a cheery home.

Readjusting her bag's strap on her shoulder, she turned to walk up the stairs. Two landings from her floor, she heard sounds of struggles and rushed up to see her front door slightly ajar. Light was streaming through the gap and shadows were flying across it. Her mother's scream pierced the air and before she could register what was happening, the door flew open and two burly men in tank tops and khaki-coloured military pants barreled out of it, pushing her to the ground. The nondescript black baseball caps they were wearing cast shadows which hid their faces from view and prevented her from ever identifying them. She looked past the open door to see her mum lying beyond the coffee table, with pieces of glass from the broken tabletop littered around her. Her eyes were open, pleading and anguished that her beloved daughter had to see their hours of hard work wrecked; that she was lying there helplessly, blood gushing out from her neck, barely stemmed by the piece of broken glass causing of the fatal wound; that she was rapidly losing consciousness while the men responsible for everything had just knocked her daughter to the ground...

The sight of her dying mother caused adrenaline to rush through Camille and she pushed to her feet. Like a demon possessed, she launched herself at one of the men making their escape down the stairway. Flinging her arms around his thick neck, she started clawing at his face and body - anywhere she could get her hands on. The man growled in annoyance and tried to shake her off by twisting his body side to side. She slipped down his back a little and saw the symbol - the crescent moon surrounded by clouds - etched onto the back of his right shoulder. And that was the last and only discriminable feature she saw before the man reached back and grabbed her hair and arm, and flung her against the wall where she knocked her head and blacked out.

The next thing she remembered was waking up in the hospital to find two policemen hovering over her, looking apologetic as they broke the news to her before proceeding to take her statement. The only lead in the case was the symbol she saw, which the police doubted was a gang symbol, although gang crimes were common in her neighbourhood. Soon, the trail went cold and so did the case.

"That's why I took up karate," she said with a humourless laugh. "To feel that illusion of hope that when I eventually find them, I'll have the means of beating them into a pulp."

Klaus looked around at the apartment, trying to picture the violence that she witnessed that fateful night and was shocked at the depth of sympathy he felt for this slip of a girl. Watching her gather her emotions carefully back, he was at a loss as to what else he could say. All he could come up with was "You're very brave to have overcome that."

Camille's response was a bitter smile. "You can never overcome grief, Klaus. All you can do is to sit by helplessly and watch it tear you up inside. In the end, it's how strong a front you can put up for people while you pick up the pieces and attempt to rebuild your life all over again."

Katherine stood by the window, watching the dawn of a new day, fiddling with her daylight bracelet, worn more out of habit than need now. It represented the only constant in her life for the past few centuries and was a reminder of a happier time with people whom she could call friends, despite being on the run from Klaus. She sighed and picked up her bag. For the umpteenth time in that day, tears streamed down her face, unbidden, as she recalled her previous conversation with Elijah.

"You'll be fine, Katerina," said Elijah, returning to her side after stepping out with Klaus. He reached for a glass of water and a set of pills placed on the bedside table and held them out for her.

"I won't," she shouted, her hoarse voice reflecting the grating pain in her throat. She brushed his hand aside, causing the pills to scatter "Can't you see, Elijah? Klaus wants me dead. And I don't stand a chance against him!"

"Niklaus won't hurt you, you have my word."

"Then I'll become his walking blood bag for him to create his hybrid minions, like I was meant to five hundred years ago. And one day, one of them will lose control and snap my neck or drain me. Or one of his enemies will kill me out of spite!"

"I won't let him or anyone else kill you," reassured Elijah.

"I'm human. Even the flu can kill me," she said choking out a sob.

She saw Elijah raise an eyebrow amusingly and threw him a look angry but confused look.

"Sorry, I'm just amazed at how you manage to sound disdainful even while you're hysterical," he said, barely containing his smile. In one swift movement, he reached for her and crushed her to his chest in firm hug. "I've never seen you this way before, but it's strangely endearing," he whispered into her hair.

She sighed against him and snuggled closer, taking in the pleasant smell of food that has pervaded his shirt and her stomach growled loudly, like an alarm reminding her of her body's needs. She tensed up and pushed back, her eyes beseeching. "You have to turn me, Elijah. We can... run away together. Lead the simple life we've always ..."

Her words wiped the smile off his face and his arms dropped to his side as he took a step back. His eyes were cast down as he whispered: "Is that all I am to you? A means to immortality?"

Katherine's eyes widened at his assumption. "No, Elijah. I just... It's just..."

She tried to explain herself but the fever was hindering her from thinking straight. Her heart dropped under Elijah's stare and she could see the disappointment and hurt in his eyes as he stood up and left the room without another word. And like a weakling, she had crawled into bed and cried herself silly, eventually drifting into a restless sleep.

"What were you thinking?" she said to herself, looking around the room. Out of curiosity, she walked to the wardrobe and slid the door open. Inside hung a neat row of long-sleeved shirts, perfectly aligned and arranged by colour, from light to dark. She ran her fingers across them and smiled, the realisation that Elijah had put her in his room making her heart soar a little. But she was leaving. She had made a wrong choice in coming here, thinking that seeing Elijah would fix everything that had happened in her sad thirty-three days of human life. It had taken her that long to come to her senses. She was Katerina Petrova, Katherine Pierce. She was resilient, whether human or vampire. And she would get well on her own, even if she had to learn all the mundane human stuff all over again.

Making up her mind, she dropped her bag on the bed and walked over to the huge oak desk. She picked up a paper and pen and penned her letter. When she finished writing, she folded it up neatly and slipped it into a heavy envelope and placed it under a stack of papers in the topmost drawer of the desk. He'll have to work for it, she though as she went into the adjoining bathroom, scrubbed her face free from the tear stains. She gathered her bag and stepped out of the room quietly, half-wishing Elijah would pop out of the shadows and stop her. But the house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs. The steps barely made a creak but just as she was reaching out for the doorknob, she heard a voice.

"Katherine?"

She spun round to find a familiar face. "Hayley?"

"I see there's no need for me to introduce you two," Elijah's voice floated over from the top of the stairs before he appeared.

Hayley's surprise gave way to anger as she recalled the vampire Katherine sent to kill her. "You sent someone to kill me!" she said, making her way menacingly to her.

"That is enough, Hayley," said Elijah, planting himself firmly between the two angry brunettes.

"Don't worry about it. I was just leaving."

Elijah head snapped to Katherine at her announcement. "You're leaving?"

"Wouldn't want to impose. Gotta get a head start against Klaus. Short and sad human life to lead, you know?" she said, turning on her heels. She kept walking even when she heard Elijah call her name softly in warning, and two seconds later, she was face to face with him.

His eyes bore into hers and he commanded: "You will not leave this house."

"It's not going to work. I'm on vervain," said Katherine weakly.

"No, you're not. I checked. And the time you spent here is enough for any vervain you had to leave your system," said Elijah with a smirk. "And you," he turned to Hayley, "will behave cordially to Katerina, and not impose any bodily harm on her."

"Oh, this is going to be fun," said Katherine sarcastically, before storming back up the stairs into Elijah's room.

Elena paced to and fro Jeremy's room, stopping once every few paces to cast worried glances at her brother who had come back from the dead because of the sacrifice of her best friend.

"I'm really fine, Elena. And you're wearing out Damon's carpet," said Jeremy, looking up from the book he was reading. He had managed to find an interesting book on the history of Mystic Falls in the Salvatore house that he had never come across in the libraries before.

"Are you sure? Did they ask you awkward questions? Are they suspicious of the story we came up with? I mean, now that I think of it, it's quite a flimsy excuse," said Elena anxiously.

"I'm sure I'm the Number One suspect if they can prove it's foul play, but we made sure that wouldn't happen, right." He put down the book and walked over to his sister. "Hey," he said, grasping her shoulders firmly, "it's going to be fine. Stop worrying, okay?"

Elena was not convinced, but she nodded her head. She looked at her brother and saw the unspoken request in his eyes. "I'll be downstairs. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks," he said, giving her a hug.

Damon was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her.

"He's right, you know? You worry too much," he said, pressing a kiss to Elena's forehead before enveloping her in a hug. "Give him some more space. He needs it to figure things out by himself."

"Well, aren't you the great psychologist," she teased.

"I haven't lived over a century and a half to accumulate zero experience in reading human behaviour."

He steered her into the living room and frowned at the blonde who was sitting in an armchair, bent over a pile of photos.

"Where's Stefan?" he demanded.

Caroline looked up and shrugged. "He said he was leaving. He didn't say where. Guess he felt he couldn't accept things as readily as he thought he could." She caught the look between the two lovebirds and added: "Okay, I was just saying, not judging!" She paused for a long moment as Elena and Damon made their way towards her. She wanted to keep the question to herself, but she thought she would just voice it out despite the awkwardness. "Am I the only one who thinks Stefan's acting strangely? I mean, the reluctance to help us with the plan, the endless misgivings - not that it's a perfect plan, but something is just... off! Urgh, and I can't figure it out."

Damon and Elena pondered her statement and Elena spoke first. "But he's not Ripper-Stefan, right?"

"Nope, definitely not. Missing the cocky bounce in his step, the indifference in his sarcasm... and the hair's not styled right," concluded Damon.

A long silence met his statement and the three of them lapsed into their own thoughts before Elena spoke up. "Maybe we should choose the photos first, for the memorial." And the air took a dip from a pensive energy to a despondent one.

Most of the divers had gone home for the day, but a handful of them remained to clock in one last dive before the sun set at the request of the Mayor. It was his daughter who had gone missing, after all. The five divers jumped in and three of them surfaced ten minutes later. One of them took off his regulator and shouted: "I think we got something! Pass me the cable hook and we'll try to drag it out."

They dived back in and pulled the heavy metal hook with them. Their fellow divers were waiting in the vicinity of the large object that they had located that looked to be a safe. They attached the hook and the steel cable around the turning handles of the safe and two of them surfaced to give the guy operating the crane the signal to pull the safe up.

The awful noise of metal rubbing against metal was muffled underwater so it was a shock when the door to the safe came loose under the pressure and flew out, hitting one of divers and making a long and deep gash at his side, from the hip to the shoulder blade. The scream that came out from him was literally drowned as it turned into a mass of bubbles. His team mates watched in shock as the blood flowing out of his body slowly mingled with the water, a red ballooning cloud. As the they dragged their injured friend up onto the surface to get medical help, the crimson cloud drifted into the open safe.

The blood caressed the lips of the desiccated body that had been trapped within, and made its way into its slightly opened mouth. The red liquid seemed to take on the form and function of the one thing it was symbolic of - life - for its presence reanimated the body as the eyes flew open and the limbs moved to propel it out of the water. The figure was a blur when it made it to land, making short work of the humans standing around the door of what was his metal prison just minutes ago. He drained every last drop of blood from them and was relishing in the fear and confusion pulsating through his food, all while satiating the hunger that had gnawed at him for too long. Dropping his last blood bag, he turned to wait on the shore for three more of them who were making their way out of the water, straight into his welcoming jaws. The corners of his mouth turned up when he realised how easy this was and he made a mental note to himself to go for something more challenging after this.

A/N: Thanks for the follows, favourites and reviews! Sorry this chapter was so crappy. I just had to get it out because I'm horrible.

I hope you didn't feel that Klaus's character was too OOC in the scene with Camille. For me, I think Caroline has really softened up him quite a bit, which is what makes me such a huge Klaroline fan. And I think Camille reminds him of Caroline a little, which is why he behaves more considerately towards her.

I think it's always easier to portray Camille and Hayley as antagonists in the story, but it gives them very little mileage and they become very flat characters. So as much as I don't like the both of them coming in to disrupt my Klaroline ship, I think they will help Klaus become a better guy who deserves Caroline's love. They need to go through much more, just between the both of them, disregarding their friends, before they can come together as one.

*edit: Next up: Caroline and Klaus finally meet again!